


Need

by Corollaire



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/F, Orgasm Delay/Denial, PWP, Porn Battle XV, Power Dynamics, Rule 63
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 17:24:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1193475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corollaire/pseuds/Corollaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maedhris and Fingwen play a game - of sorts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Need

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts: Rule 63, power, denial, queens, flame

This was a game they played.

Fingwen on the bed, face pressed into a pillow and hands tangled in the silken sheets above her head, naked and trembling with something between want and fear. Maedhris, kneeling behind her, hand resting lightly on Fingwen's bare legs. A game of desire, a game of power.

_Wasn't that how it always was?_

"Is this what you want?" Maedhris whispered, and her hand traced small circles along the backs of Fingwen's leg, soft pressure with just a hint of nail. Fingwen's whimper was muffled by the pillow. Her hands dug into the blankets.

_Don't move. Not yet. Not until she says you can._

This was how it went.

Maedhris pressed a kiss into the small of Fingwen's back, lingering there for a moment. Her hand slid up Fingwen's hips, came to a halt there, the stump where her right wrist ended resting against her hipbone.

"High queen of the Noldor," she whispered, mouth suddenly inches from Fingwen's ear, and the dark-haired elf stiffened at the whisper of breath across her bare neck. "Spread beneath me and _begging_ for me. Do you think they would call you queen now, if they could see you?"

There was an answering twist of shame, deep in Fingwen's stomach, but the heat between her legs was overwhelming, the friction of Maedhris' skin against hers far more important than anything else. (And perhaps, under that, the relief of letting the power go, taking off the crown and letting her cousin do what she would. In the end, they both got what they wanted.)

"Hurry _up_ ," she hissed, twisting her head around for a second. She yelped at the stinging pain that followed a moment later as Maedhris brought her hand down on the inside of her knee, sharp and light.

"I could always leave you here, you know," her cousin replied, but there was an undercurrent of heat in her voice, and Fingwen knew that it was an empty threat.

Maedhris' lips brushed against the back of Fingwen's neck as her hand crept up, cupping her breasts, fingers whispering across her nipples. Fingwen buried her face in the pillows, feeling Maedhris' unbound hair tickling her bare back. She wanted to move, wanted to turn over and tangle her fingers in that flame-red hair and kiss Maedhris, feel her mouth on hers and her fingers _in_ her.

_(Don't move.)_

"Do you want this?" Maedhris asked, giving her nipple a sharp tweak, and Fingwen arched back into her, Maedhris' leg between her thighs tantalizingly close and _not enough_. Her fingers twisted, arms trembling with the effort of remaining still.

Maedhris' fingers moved in slow circles, every brush against the sensitive skin going straight to the arousal curling between Fingwen's legs.

"Do you?" she repeated, a hint of steel entering her voice. Fingwen swallowed.

"Yes," she choked out, and knew Maedhris was smiling that sharp smile, dangerous and full of promise.

"Well," Maedhris breathed, hand sliding down the flat plane of her stomach, right forearm pressing closer to Fingwen's hip.  "Then I suppose..." She ran a finger through the tightly curled hair between Fingwen's legs, teasing, and drew back when Fingwen tried to press against her hand.

"Keep still," she reminded her, moving down Fingwen's body, planting kisses down the curve of her spine. Fingwen whimpered.

Her hips bucked when Maedhris slipped a finger into her, and she bit down on the pillow to muffle the noise that escaped her mouth. Her hands itched to grab Maedhris, urge her on–– _faster, damn you, move_ faster––

She tried to thrust down onto Maedhris' fingers and felt them withdraw, digging into her thigh, a soft warning. There was a hard knot of arousal low in her stomach, and it was getting harder and harder to think through the haze of Maedhris' fingers and lips and skin and still not enough, not where she wanted it (needed it).

Maedhris' fingers returned, teasing between her lips, and Fingwen fought to remain still.

"You tremble for my touch," Maedhris whispered, slipping in another finger. "Perhaps next time I shall truly bind you, and bring you to the edge of completion over and over, until you _beg_ ––but you are near enough to begging already, aren't you?"

Fingwen snarled, twisting over onto her back and trying to grab Maedhris. Her cousin moved with lightning speed, pinning her wrists above her head with her right forearm, pressing her weight down to keep her from moving.

"I told you to stay still," Maedhris said, voice deceptively light. Her left hand was still working between Fingwen's legs, stroking far too slowly. Fingwen bit back a plea, set her face stubbornly. She tested Maedhris' grip, but should have known better––losing a hand had done little to decrease her cousin's strength.

Maedhris' hand moved faster, brushing over her clit, sending shivers of heat up her stomach. Fingwen couldn't help trying to thrust down onto Maedhris' fingers, lips parting in a soundless cry of need.

"My _queen_ ," Maedhris hissed, a smile twisting her face and a fire in her eyes, and her fingers stilled. Fingwen's hips bucked forward before she could stop them, back arching into the pillows. The brush of Maedhris' hair against her nipples made a whine rise in her throat. 

"Something wrong?" Maedhris was smiling, breath coming fast, and Fingwen simultaneously tried to wrench her hands free and push down against Maedhris' hand.

"Maedhris," she finally gasped, squirming under her cousin's weight, "Dammit, Maedhris, just––"

Maedhris gripped Fingwen's thigh, digging her fingers in. "You know what you need to say, cousin _dearest_."

_No, damn you––_

She swallowed, then met her eyes as evenly as she could. "Please, Maedhris."

"Please what?"

Fingwen spat out a curse, trying to grind down against Maedhris' leg, but her cousin pulled back with a low laugh, leaving her with nothing.

"Touch me," she finally choked out, " _finish_ it, Maedhris––"

Maedhris kissed her, slow and deep, as her hand slipped between her legs and sent her shuddering over the edge, fire claiming the last edges of the world, everything fading away for the space of a heartbeat.

She came back to Maedhris' smirking face as she pulled away, releasing Fingwen's arms. Fingwen tangled her fingers in her cousin's red hair, their mouths crashing together again, and she tasted sweetness and flame on Maedhris' lips.


End file.
